Wednesday, 27 June 2012

Marx & Monsters: A Radical Leftist Fantasy Sandbox

Credit: anndr on deviantart
China Mieville's New Crobuzon novels portray a corrupt city where the forces in power are utterly morally bankrupt. In stark contrast to the cliche-ridden rut of modern fantasy literature, no shining knights or noble lords infest the universe of Mieville's fecund imagination. His characters are drawn from the radical bohemian crowd that thrives in the interstices of this city - anarchist journalists, labour organisers, avante-garde artists, and disgraced scientists. It's no surprise when you consider the author's political leanings - he's a dyed-in-the-wool Marxist with a PhD in International Law who actually ran for Parliament as a Socialist in 2001. In this context, power structures are examined from the perspective of the downtrodden and the oppressed - and found deeply wanting. Rather than holding the status quo as some natural state of goodness, a crippling stasis is held in place by the forceful action of the corrupt and powerful.

Narratives that build from this perspective tend to resonate with our inner sympathetic selves. It's no coincidence that most great adventure stories are told from the perspective of the underdog - the Rebel Alliance against the Empire, Indiana Jones against the entire Nazi Reich, and so on. Upstanding moral heroes who act to preserve the status quo make no sense in the sandbox-style gaming so beloved by the OSR, which is why dungeons tend to be filled by roguish heroes and wandering murder-hobos. Preserving the status quo is an inherently reactionary position to take up, and that's why Superman makes no sense as a hero in a sandbox - he needs an active threat, a pre-meditated plot to respond to before his narrative actually takes place.

In contrast, making the heroes of your game revolutionaries fighting against a capitalistic status quo makes perfect sense from a sandbox perspective, and from an anarchist perspective where all power is inherently suspect, your freedom fighters are the upstanding moral heroes. When you compare the problem faced by the radicals with the problem faced by your traditional sandbox rogue, the inherent similarity of the narrative becomes obvious:

     The Rogue
  1. The world is filled with horrible monsters.
  2. We can't possibly kill all the monsters. 
  3. But if we kill enough, we might save some people and get stinking rich from treasure.
     The Radical
  1. The world is ruled by the corrupt and powerful.
  2. We can't possibly destroy all of the corrupt power structures.
  3. But if we destroy enough, we might lessen the burden of the proletariat or inspire a broader revolution.
Basically, you are building a game where the terrorists are the good guys. So what do you need to build a sandbox for a motley bunch of Marxist revolutionaries?


Characters & The Party

Characters should be drawn from the anarchists, the downtrodden, labour organisers, bohemians, radicals - those who have an interest in overthrowing the established power structures. In keeping with the tradition of sandbox adventurers, you don't want to create too much background for the characters, but they need to have a rationale for opposing the entrenched hierarchy. A random generator for motivations and radical affiliations is probably all you need; they can still be fighters, wizards, and rogues, but they're fighters, wizards, and rogues from outside the system's social consensus. If you have all the characters start off as members of some revolutionary cell or outlawed organisation, you've got all the motivation you need for the "adventurers" to start robbing some banks.

Experience Points & Rewards

There are a tonne of articles around the blogosphere explaining why the old-school "treasure for XP" mode of play helps deliver the ideal sandbox experience for roguish adventures. In short, the idea is that "treasure for XP" rewards inventive play in a way that "quest XP" or "monster XP" simply doesn't - you have no incentive to face that monster other than its treasure, and if you can steal or capture the treasure through other means beyond direct confrontation, you're just as well off.

This is the sort of play we want to encourage in our revolutionary PCs, but "treasure for XP" might not create the right kind of incentive. Our mystical Marxists aren't adventuring to gather wealth and become part of the establishment - they're here to bring down The Man, and liberate the proletariat from oppression. We're looking for something that encourages inventive play towards the destruction of capitalist power, not accumulation of it.

Option number one is simply to rephrase the idea of "treasure for XP". Instead of gaining XP per unit of wealth acquired, you could award XP per unit of capitalist wealth destroyed or redistributed to the oppressed classes. It's a reasonably simple method that might work if you want to keep the granularity of old-school experience systems.

A second option would be something similar to the experience model of Dungeon World, where experience is awarded based on a series of end-of-session questions answered by the party. All you have to do here is change the questions to something more appropriate for our anarchistic adventures. Instead of the questions:
  • Did we learn something new and important about the world?
  • Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy?
  • Did we loot a memorable treasure?
and marking experience for each "Yes" answers, you might ask:
  • Did we learn something new and important about the City?
  • Did we overcome a notable source of oppression?
  • Did we lessen the burden of the proletariat? 
and award experience on that basis.

Setting & Locales

The Marxist sandbox has to be a city - in fact, it has to be the City. The traditional sandbox might be a border region perched on the edge of a monster-filled wilderness, but Marxist fantasy simply doesn't happen without industrial smokestacks belching forth noxious gasses in a city heaving with oppression, and the PCs can't be oppressed if they can simple escape the oppressor's power by leaving the city. It is a place like Sigil, or Sharn, or MoBu City - a city that's a world within itself. It should sprawl over many varied districts, each with their own unique character, some impoverished and ruined, others decadent and corrupt. Mapping the city probably defies logic and the ability of the game master, but Chris Kutalik might help. You might want to write a random generator for neighbourhoods, or steal an existing city and turn it in upon itself, using the perspective of a bottom-rung anarchist.

James Maliszewski talks about the importance of locales to the old-school method of play with his usual eloquence here; sandbox games don't run on pre-written plots. They need baroque locales for adventures to plunder and depths for adventurers to plumb. In a traditional sandbox, these are ancient tombs, lost temples, and haunted caverns. Our Marxist sandbox will instead be populated with mansions of venal judges and captains of industry, hellish factories, opulent banks, guard barracks, and corrupt temples. You can even have dungeons and caverns beneath the City, populated by the local powers of the underworld. Each locale should be ruled by some element of the oppressive hierarchy, the monstrous rulers of our anarchists' nightmarish world. In a twist on the traditional idea of the monster's lair, the various elements of a specific reactionary power's base may not all be located in one area. A bank may have branches across town, the town guards are certain to have many watch-houses, and an underworld figure may own several establishments across the City. You should treat these in some way as being part of the same adventure locale; if the players want to destroy the bankers' power, they may have to hit several different branches, or perhaps they just have to kidnap the owner from his harem-palace in the High Tower and hold him to ransom.

Monsters & Antagonists

The antagonists of your Marxist sandbox will be the varied agents of oppression. Since this is a fantasy game, you should make them as monstrous as possible; the high priest isn't just corrupt, he's a vampire. The secret police might employ mind flayers to rip the secrets from captured revolutionaries, or the underworld mob boss could literally be an ogre. Generally speaking, you can divide up your antagonists into a few categories:
  • Predators: those who feed on the suffering of the populace, either literally or metaphorically. Opiates and Enforcers serve their needs, if perhaps indirectly. 
  • Opiates: those who try to keep the populace ignorant of their suffering. 
  • Enforcers: those who keep the boot on the neck those who try to rise up above their assigned station.
  • Destroyers: the dark side of your revolutionary protagonists, these are not oppressors but instead destructive forces who aim to break everything down, not just the agents of oppression.
The front structure of Dungeon World might be an inspiration here when it comes to designing your sandbox, but with an important difference: the villains of the City are, with the exception of the destroyers, concerned with the maintenance of the status quo, not its downfall. In fact, this idea is what makes the City such an excellent sandbox for old-school gaming - the status quo mirrors the initial situation of a wilderness sandbox, infested with monsters and hostile to human life. Without the character's intervention, the machinery of oppression will simply continue to grind away, a boot stamping on the face of humanity forever. 

Note: this post has been edited to remove references to a litigious individual

[To Coin a World] Pyresburg

The Beacon City


A rather confused artist's impression of the city


Pyresburg has stood (mostly) for nearly two thousand years (again, mostly. Damned wizards), andhas played a pivotal role in the building of a dozen empires. It is also home to a lot of pigeons. Some of whom are said to have interbred with vultures.

Theme and Mood

Theme: Light and Fire, Smoke and Shadow 
Pyresburg has always been a beacon of civilization on Spindlewick, a shining example of everything a great city can be, what the fires of progress can forge. But it is also an example of every shadow that a beacon casts, and of what can be lost if a forge burns untended.

Mood: Bustling and Self-Absorbed.
The streets of Pyresburg are crowded and noisy at all hours of the day and night, thronging with locals, and visitors from all over the Coin. Most of these visitors are merchants, passing through, or selling to other merchants, as the city produces very little raw material itself. And yet somehow, even with this reliance on trade, those within its walls care little for the goings on outside, except as the occasional fashion or fad. The city has been here, always busy, always leading and lighting the way, for what seems like forever, while the rest of the world changes and follows.

The Sights

The Pyre
An incredibly tall solid (if slightly twisty) stone tower topped with a great fire, the Pyre for which the city is named has stood on its small rocky spit, serving as a lighthouse for as long as recorded history. In times of danger it is also used as a signal to the surrounding countryside by the simple expedient of adding an alchemical agent to change the colour of the flame, and on a clear night with some elevation and a spyglass, can be seen half-way across the world.

The Pyresbaron’s Palace
Supposedly the same building from which pyresburg has been ruled for the last two millennia, the Palace has been upgraded, downgraded, sidegraded, repainted, reoriented, reverted, inverted, added on to, or in some other manner modified by nearly every Baron to take residence in it (several of whom were quite crazy). As a result it is a rambling hodge-podge of architectural styles, stuffed full of rooms that nobody uses, or for even remembers the original purpose of.
A quiet evening

The Windings
Even the most hardened warriors hesitate to enter this maze of twisty little alleyways, all alike. The majority of Hoblings in the city live here, alongside the dregs of human society, but do not be fooled into thinking that they’ve raised the property values. If anything, it has an even darker reputation than it did a hundred years ago when a mercenary giant wandered into the area and was found the next day, devoid of both his wallet and several internal organs.

The Night Market
Under the glare of the Pyre, the city never truly sleeps, and business of one sort or another continues at all hours. The night market fills several minor squares, the streets in between, and in some cases, even extending to the catacombs below, with vendors selling everything that you could find in a regular market (for the benefit of those who keep later hours), and a lot more strange or illegal things besides. 





The Drowned Rat Tavern
A famous drinking establishment, but sadly not for exemplary service or fine beverages. Rather, the Drowned Rat attracts daredevils and the terminally curious, as it has been destroyed seven times in the last ten years, always in unusual circumstances. Why the owner, Johann Vine, keeps rebuilding it, and how he gets the money to do so, is a mystery.


The Elvish Embassy
Maintained in unison by the Dawnwind elves of inland Spindlewick, and the seafarers of distant Yendys, the Embassy organises trade between the two elvish groups, as well as to the human nations nearby. It also provides food, lodging, and luxurious baths for elvish travellers, and an excellent location to look out over the teeming human city and feel suitably superior.


The Temple of Untold Gods
A natural out-growth of the city’s mercantile nature, ancient and varied history, and its siren song to all and sundry, the Temple of Untold Gods is technically run by priests of Omnia (Goddess of Everything Not Covered By Other Gods), but is in fact an omni-denominational church that rents out shrine space to new religions, and is often visited by those faithful to gods not widely known in the city. Behind the building proper is a small dump where the trappings of long-dead cults are deposited, occasionally sifted by the Academy’s theology department.


The Pyresburg Academy
Must be Tuesday...
The oldest and most learned magical school on the Coin, the Academy was the greatest of its kind... until it burned down in mysterious circumstances 50 years ago, taking a fair chunk of the city, and all but a handful of wizards, with it. The rebuilding of the Academy has been an uphill battle, and it is still only a shadow of its former glory, but that very need to regain lost knowledge has made the Academy one of the best research institutes on Spindlewick, and a great place to sell rare books or magical devices. The locals have learned to largely ignore the periodic explosions and weird smells coming from the place.

Beneath the City
Pyresburg has existed for a long time, and the ground beneath it has taken on a consistency not unlike a Sbörk cheese – full of strange-smelling holes. Dwarf squats, Hobling warrens, basements, cellars, sewer systems both modern and long abandoned, underground sections of the old Academy (which are occasionally mobile), and older and more mysterious ruins jumble together beneath the streets. Some people tell tales of albino crocodiles that roam the underground. Those in the know scoff at such suggestions - crocodiles would be an easy meal for some of the things down there.


Yep, definitely Tuesday.

Personages of Note

PyresBaron Tiberius Hacken
A man bristly of moustache and large of ego, he considers himself a political genius, and a great patron of the arts. Most people in the know consider him a massively oblivious twit. How he’s survived nearly eight years since his election, where his predecessors died of Chronic Enemies within months is anybody’s guess.

Leonardor Doomwinch
Leonardor might well be the best dwarven engineer on the Coin, were he ever to actually finish constructing any of his inventions. Where most dwarves take pride in making a flawless finished work, Leonardor will only work on a project long enough to prove that he could hypothetically construct a perfect working construct. Of course, his designs are still incredible (if incomplete and occasionally hard to decipher), and even the basic prototypes for his inventions are marvels of engineering (if wildly unreliable), so he does not lack for patrons. There is a small industry of craftsmen in the city whose only job is to try to finish his designs, with varying success.

Daywatch Commander Lyadu Mzeze
A wandering hunter-adventurer from Zwuyala, Commander Mzeze came to Pyresburg in pursuit of a thief who had stolen a great trophy, the skull of a Zwuyalan Dire Tigerbear. Her pursuit of this criminal accidentally uncovered a smuggling ring, and caught the attention of the city watch. Intrigued by the prospect of hunting criminals through the streets of Pyresburg, she joined up as a constable, and 30 years later she is commander of the entire organization. Off duty she is a good humoured but sly old woman. On the job she is steely-eyed and tireless in her pursuit of justice.

Nightwatch Captain Thragg Turnskull.
Mzeze’s second-in-command, and Captain of the night shift, Thragg’s half-orcish night-vision and muscular bulk serve him well defending the streets from criminals. He shares his commander’s devotion to the Law, and to the City as a whole, even if most people would rather have nothing to do with somebody of orcish heritage.

Gonzo Loudfeet, Invasive Journalist.
Pyresburg is home to many thieves and spies and blackmailers. And recently, it has become home to something many consider even worse: a journalist. This obnoxious chain-smoking, coffee-skulling Hobling doesn’t even have the good grace to sell the information he purloins to the highest bidder, instead publishing it for all the world to see (or at least all the world with a spare copper or two, and the ability to read) in the daily broadsheet The Pyresburg Beacon.

Samuel Pander, Senior Firefighter Patrol.
Pyresburg has been burnt to the ground a number of times over its sordid history, but it won't do so again on Sam's watch. Or so he says, at least. He may have his work cut out for him, as he's actually the ONLY member of the firefighter patrol, and has been for many years. But he continues to patrol the city, selling water to thirsty folk to make ends meet, as well as sharing the surprisingly accurate and hard to come by information he picks up on his rounds... for a price. 


Sam on a typical day.

Criminal Groups


The Guild of Red Masks
The most famous guild of “gentleman” thieves and burglars on the Coin, the Red Masks’ official headquarters is in Pyresburg, according to legend, at least. Its membership are skilled, mobile, and universally possessed of a great deal of class, stealing only the most famous of objects, and looking down at the thugs and killers that are so common among the criminal class. The only way to enter the Guild is by invitation, and the only way to get that is with a heist executed with extreme daring, cunning and flair.  

The Studded Brotherhood
At the other end of the spectrum of criminal activity is the Studded Brotherhood, named after their near-uniform of studded leather armour and helmets. This organization of thugs and assassins control crime in a fair portion of the city, and would probably control a lot more if their lack of finesse hadn't caused the Red Masks to subtly side against them. 

Fighting Organizations

Have been covered elsewhere...

Random Encounters (d12)

  1. Puzzled tourist from some far off land, probably about to be fleeced.
  2. Studded Brotherhood gang-members loitering around. 
  3. Wannabe Red Mask running from the Watch. Is aiming more for dashing rather than fleeing. 
  4. The Pyresbaron's bright red coach, surrounded by guards. 
  5. Sound of a distant explosion. Anybody nearby will mutter "bloody wizards". 
  6. Watch patrol, seemingly loaded for bear. Will be puzzled if asked why they're heavily armed, as this is standard equipment.
  7. Beggars. Almost certainly collecting information for somebody
  8. Sam Pander and his water-cart. 
  9. Gonzo Loudfeet nosing about. 
  10. Weird noises from nearby drain. 
  11. See That Random Harlot Sub-table 
  12. Fight. 50% chance scheduled bar-fight, 50% chance flashy sword-duel.

Wednesday, 15 February 2012

[Honor + Intrigue] Demi-Human Fighting Styles

Warhammer: 1d6 damage, +1 Beat, -1 Parry.

Elvish Sword-Spear: 1d6+1 damage, two-handed but without the Parry penalty usually associated with that

Friday, 3 February 2012

Nifflas

Factions of the Day (sigilesque)
 - Librarians
 - Inebriates
 -

Airplanes

Televisions and radios

Junkforged

Currencies - money changing mechanic

  • Skywhale teeth
  • Miniature gewgaws
  • Sunlight phials
  • Corpse fingers
  • Typewriter keys
  • Thrupenny 


Tuesday, 31 January 2012

En-Ru-Ob-Lem

City of the Drow

The Demonweb Pit

The

EDIT FROM JARRAH: not to be confused with M'HAHAHAHAHA, the dark elf city named after the distinctive call of the Yondan Mustache-Twirling Cookaburra. (Please feel free to delete this)

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Into the Far West

Damn, the Far West map has to be one of the most inspirational pieces of fantasy cartography I've seen. Just looking at that vista makes me want to pull on my kung-fu cowboy boots and ride off into the sunset.

They ran a Kickstarter earlier this year to release the roleplaying game, but I wasn't able to contribute as Amazon Payments isn't easily available to me as an Australian without a credit card. I wish that either Kickstarter would start supporting PayPal, or more RPG businesses would switch to using IndieGoGo (and other PayPal supporting websites) for their crowdfunding needs.

[To Coin a World] The Dwarven Agricultural Revolution

-200 years: dwarves subsist primarily on fungal products, poor mountain-side farming, and trade with human farmers

-150 years: clever dwarven runesmith inscribes rune for sun on seeds of barley plant, leading to plants that can grow out of the sun

-100 years: sun-free barley farming becomes reasonably common in the dwarven mountain holds. surface farming communities are abandoned (ruins!), holds become more crowded as the dwarven population grows

-50 years: growing population pressures spark massive social discontent among suddenly large population of young dwarves, leading to internecine clan feuds and gross migration out of dwarven communities and into human cities

-50 years to present: human and dwarven communities become more tightly integrated thanks to migration. dwarven holds develop new mines and mining techniques that vastly increase the supply of metals across Spindewick. pri

Lawful What? An Alternative Alignment System



I have always been vaguely fascinated with the alignment system in Dungeons & Dragons; somehow, its unsatisfactory codification of ethical complexities into a simple nine-point grid holds a certain charm. You know what your Lawful Good paladin stands for, and why he has issues with the Chaotic Good bard, even though they're both on the side of the angels. The merits of the scheme are probably best expressed in Planescape, where it forms an expressive backdrop for the Great Wheel's unique cosmology and the interplay of belief and ideas.

In that vein of thought, let me present a somewhat whimsical alternative to the standard system of ethical and moral alignment, in which character's personal values and codes are presented in the form of Colours, Pieces, and Suits. It could be easily used in place of any system of codifying characters' moral or ethical alignments. A honour-bound steel-hearted paladin might be a White Knight of Diamonds, while passionately faithful paladin might be a Red Bishop of Hearts.

Colours
The Colour of one's character represents their moral perspective on the world. In a phrase, you might say it colours their definition of good and evil.

White
The colour White stands for strict benevolence, for the greater good over all other concerns and emotions. To be aligned with White is to reject the concerns of the self and focus only on the betterment of the world. White is the most moral of all the Colours because it rejects selfishness and destructive emotions.

Red
Passion and romantic idealism are embodied by Red. Red characters are lovers and warriors, fighting boldly for their ideals even in the face of reason. Red is the most moral of all the Colours because it holds love to be the most important force in the universe.

Grey
Grey is a rejection of extremes. The Greys stand for balance between competing forces; a neutral stance in a complex universe that cannot truly be understood. Grey is the most moral of all the Colours because it rejects extremes and holds to neutrality.

Yellow
In the spectrum of Colours, Yellow represents greed and self-interest, but also ambition and the seizing of opportunities. Yellow characters can be greedy mercenaries or gluttonous merchants, but they can also be ambitious artists who hold their work above all. Yellow is the most moral of all the colours because one can only be true to one's self.

Black 
Black is the colour of the void and of oblivion. It is the colour of nihilists who hold that the universe is flawed and the destruction, and deserves to be corrupted or destroyed. They may not take any pleasure in suffering or destruction, but Black characters fundamentally believe in the wrongness of creation. Black is the most moral of colours because the universe deserves to be destroyed.

Pieces
Pieces refer to the relationship with power and authority; how one reacts to rules and laws, and where one believes ultimate responsibility lies.

Bishop
A Bishop places their faith solidly in the otherworldly and the divine. They hold that moral order stems from some force greater than themselves, rather than from any human ideals. Morality may come in the form of a divine text, or in the answers they hear in their personal prayers, but it is something unmistakably unworldly and immaterial.

Knight
Knights hold true to a personal code of honour and conduct, unalterable by external forces.

Rook 
To be a Rook is to respect temporal authority and to hold true to one's station in society. They hold laws and traditions in high regard, and will not easily be moved to break them. Rooks make implacable servants and loyal officers, and can often be found serving in bureaucracies, or as guardians of civic order and virtue.

Jack
"No lords, no masters!" is the dying creed of the Jack. Mercurial and changeable, they cannot be pinned down to any code of conduct. Jacks are anarchists and radicals, scoundrels and renegades; found only on the edges of a society they fundamentally reject.

Queen
Some believe that authority stems fundamentally from themselves. These Queens are the ambitious and the powerful, those who believe themselves the rightful makers of law. While they may hold to some moral code, they believe themselves best placed to implement it in society.

Suits
A character's Suit represents the virtues that they value most strongly, and the means by which they seek to achieve their goals.

Diamonds
Diamonds respect excellence in all areas of life, and disdain the mediocre. No Diamond will settle for good enough; they will always push to achieve greater heights of skill or quality. The greatest gift you can give a Diamond is an exquisitely crafted tool or weapon.

Hearts
A character in the suit of Hearts will hold creativity as the greatest of virtues. To create is to be close to the divine spark, to touch the gods. They strive for innovation, beauty, and clever solutions to difficult problems. The greatest gift you can give a Heart is an expressive work of art.

Spades
Spades value diligence and simplicity; the virtue of a hard day's work. The greatest gift you can give a Spade is to satisfy simple pleasures with a hearty meal and a refreshing beverage.

Clubs
Clubs thrive on competition and in contests of skill. They seek to prove themselves superior through victory over their foes and rivals. The greatest gift you can give a Club is to challenge them to a game that tests their strengths against yours.

Jokers
The unpredictable and the unexpected are the domain of the Joker. Nothing is sacred; they push for change at every opportunity. The greatest gift you can give a Joker is something unique and surprising.
The Librarian


Moves:


Library Card: When you go into the library searching for information, roll +Librarian. On a 10+, you easily find a book on the topic on one of the Lower Shelves. On a 7-9, choose 1 of the follow:

  • You find the book in the catalogue, but it's on one of the Upper Shelves.
  • You find a book that's not quite right.
  • You don't find the book, but you do find stories worth 1-name.
On a miss, you find the book and it's Forbidden.


Wednesday, 18 January 2012

The World is a Savvyhead's Workspace

Gregor Vuga's thoughts on how exploration-based advancement could work are definitely close to what I'd like to see from a sandbox game.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

[To Coin a World] Languille


Languille
The Croissant City

The city oozes around the mouth of the Voire like an architectural soup, rich in flavours and scents. Cramped streets suddenly give way to muddy canals, the buildings straining against the banks like looming beasts, predatory and storied. Decadent palaces and craven abodes alike hide behind crumbling facades and vine-covered walls, havens of privacy in a city where vice and virtue share the same body.

Languille's unique culture is the product of a centuries-long dance between the sun kingdom of Soleille and the great continent of Zwuyala. Decades ago, the city was ruled by the Solaise nobility, who formed an elegant and graceful cream on top of an underclass of oppressed Zwuyalan slaves and poor Reman laborers. But that was before Big Tuesday, and the Mort Reveille; the day the dead walked out of the river.

Dancing to the tune of the masked man called Baron Tuesday, the zombis took the ruling class out of the picture and turned the social pyramid upside down. Ancient Zwuyalan death magick mixed with the rich and fertile river magick of the Voire to throw the Solaise bourgeoise unceremoniously into the Cagé Quartier, and installed Baron Tuesday and his Zwuyalan allies in the House of the Rising Sun.

To escape the rage of the Sun King at the loss of one of his most prized cities, Baron Tuesday sort the protection of the Waldorf Ceasar, Emperor Otto von Karlswick, and in an unusual fit of competence and unity, the Reunited Imperium's armies found it in themselves to stop fighting against one another and smash the Sun King's armies at the Battle of Dunniewadér. And so it was that Languille passed from Soleille to the Remanschreik, and the dead went back to sleep on the river floor... for the most part.

Decades have passed, and the city has settled languidly into its new form. It may be true that Baron Tuesday is technically a lich, or a vampire, or a werewolf, or a black-hearted necromancer, or the Lord of Hell himself; but he is undoubtedly a popular ruler, at least outside of the Caged Ones or "Cajuns".

Perhaps no-one is surprised that, as the tables have turned, the newly-powerful black bourgeoise have begun to emulate their former oppressors, and the lily-white Cajun underclass have adopted several Zwuyalan traditions. The court of the Baron Tuesday seeps with all the elegance and opulence of a stately Lumiéran ball, from the overwrought corsetry to the elaborate masquerie, while the gutters and sewers of the Cagé Quartier, Cajun rootworkers delve into ancient Zwuyalana soul magick.

Theme and Mood

Theme: Life amongst Death

For a city steeped in necromancy and respect for the dead, Languille has a surprising zest and liveliness. Much like the fetid swamps that both nourish and suffocate it, the city thrives and grows with the cycle of life and death. That which is hidden beneath shuttered doors and darkened veils in other lands is celebrated out in the open in Languille. It is common to see a dying man feted by his family, or dead bodies openly lying in the streets waiting for collection, or a terminally diseased trumpeter playing in a jazz band.

Mood: Decaying Grandeur

Despite its commanding position at the mouth of the river Vieux, Languille has the feel of a city living off the wealth of better days. Since losing access to the enviable agricultural prosperity of Soleille, it has declined in economic importance compared to other ports on the Friendly Sea. Its aristocrats live decadent lives in immense decaying mansions, and its grand avenues become canals as they slowly sink into the fetid waters of the Vieux.

The Sights

The House of the Rising Sun

As the seat of an Elector of the Grand Reman League, the palace of the Baron Tuesday does not disappoint. The rambling gothic architecture of the House of the Rising Sun stands commandingly over the heart of the city on its highest hill, catching the morning light as the sun rises over the Rim. Surrounded by thorn-filled hedges maintained by an army of zombigardeners, the mansion plays host to the sometimes rambunctous intrigues of the Languillian aristocracy.

The Cagé Quartier

Once home to oversized slave markets, the Cagé Quartier now hosts the wretched hovels and slum dwellings of the descendants of the Solaise aristocracy; the Cajuns. It is well-known that places of great suffering hold a kind of memory of their own; the Cagé Quartier remembers the suffering of the Zwuyalan slaves who once passed through its gates. Through the whispers of ghosts, the Cajun underclass have learned much of the strange voodoo magicks of the jungle continent. As their overlords forget their roots and learn more of the civilised sorcery of Spindlewick, it becomes more and more likely that the Cajun rootworkers have become the true masters of Voodoun.

The Lurid Quartier

No other city on the Coin can match Languille for debauchery and decadence; its grand carnivals and street parties are notorious for their scale and sinfulness. At the heart of the Croissant City's depravity is the Lurid Quartier, a thriving riverside district filled with taverns, clubs, brothels, dancehouses, and music halls. Every building is painted in garish colours, every balcony holds its painted ladies, every street a riot of noise and sensation. For sailors, mercenaries, adventurers, traders, and merchants, it is a paradise made flesh. For those who are bound to work within it, it is perhaps a less glamorous experience.

The Red Windmill

At the heart of the Lurid Quartier stands an immense crimson windmill, slowly turning in the breeze; home of the Coin's most infamous bordello and music-hall. Run by the mysterious Madame Butterfly, the Red Windmill is the most lurid and decadent house in a lurid and decadent city. Each night, its dancing girls and zombi musicians thrill and entertain dozens of luminaries from across the Coin, none of whom would admit to their presence. Their anonymity is maintained by the enchanted masks that every customer dons upon entry, disguising their faces and voices.

Cemetery Hill

Just outside the city, on a hill that rises above the swamps, is the only remaining cemetery in the city. Most of the city's dead are buried in the river, or reanimated as zombis; few are given to the traditional Solaise funerary ways. However, some in the city still mark death with marble tombs and gravestones, even if the bodies are still mobile, and the city's necromancers need somewhere to store the vital ingredients of their art. Cemetary Hill is a place for quiet reflection in a city that prides itself on fearing silence more than death, and thus it is valued by many for more than just its original purpose as a place for bones to rest. Smugglers and criminals make furtive use of its many empty graves, and meet in quiet places under the grey branches of the shade-trees.

Personnages of Note

Baron Tuesday

The city's enigmatic ruler is a living embodiment of its nature; a master necromancer who revels in all things living, and an astute politician who knows when to demand, when to request, and when to throw a party. No-one knows of his past before the Mort Reveille, when he charmed the dead from their watery graves and lead the city's oppressed to victory over their oppressors. An imposingly tall figure, he is never seen without an ebony and bone mask that hides his face from view, immaculate white gloves, and a beautiful but decaying set of tails and top hat. In personality, he is somewhat fickle and changeable; at one moment, his deep voice is soothing and wise, in the next, graven and wrathful. All that is constant is his love of the Croissant City and his desire to keep its long carnival of life and death in motion, whatever that may take.

Lady Aschelle

Once a favoured consort to the Baron Tuesday, the aged but elegant Lady Aschelle is the most prominent figure in the court of the Rising Sun after Tuesday himself. A powerful necromancer and voodou sorceress in her own right, Lady Aschelle is known both for her compassion for the poor, and her utter ruthlessness in political and business dealings. She owns many of the least malodorous poorhouses in the CagĂ© Quartier, and maintains a series of trading interests across the League in the potion ingredients market, using cheap zombi labour to outmanuever the competition. Her compassion is attributed to her past as a poor cellar maid, trapped in servitude by the two sisters who now accompany her every crystal-covered step as zombi bodyguards. Lady Aschelle is an ear to the downtrodden in a world that has few such ears in high places, and as such she is sure to be a friend to any who fight oppression and a ruthless opponent when crossed.

Monsieur Brique

Bearing the black runic tatoos of an exiled dwarf upon his face, Languille's most prominent crime lord is a terrifying sight. Although he attempts to conceal his shameful past behind elegantly tailored suits and a tenuous grasp on Languillian high society, he will never escape it. Once the right-hand dwarf to the mysterious Madame Butterfly, he has thrived since leaving her employ in less than happy circumstances. Nothing moves through the river docks without his men knowing, and no-one demand protection money in the CagĂ© Quartier without paying their tithes to Monsieur Brique. In person, he tries to portray himself almost as a Solaise aristocrat, but his harsh accent, lowbrow sense of humour, and barely-controlled seething rage confirm his true nature as a brute.

Doc Delamour

There are many clever Cajun rootworkers in the CagĂ© Quartier, creating an elegant syncretic blend of Zwuyalan spirit magick and Spindle hedge wizardry. Most are incredibly secretive and deeply suspicious of outsiders; few will spin so much as a minor hex for those from outside the old Cajun families of the Quartier. They hide their work in the swamps and bayous. Doc Delamour is less discreet. As a Cajun rootworker with a surplus of ambition, greed, and gusto, he is more than happy to sling his services to the highest bidder. All sorts of potions and hexes are available for sale from his makeshift ambulating carriage, a common sight in the Lurid Quartier. When the good Doc is not selling love charms and poison chimes (effectiveness not guaranteed), he can be found enjoying the atmosphere of the Lurid Quartier's less expensive bordellos while trying desperately to climb the social ladder.


Random Encounter Chart

  1. Gang of wandering sailors, fresh off the boat, looking for thrills in the Lurid Quartier
  2. Zombi labourers clumsily unloading a merchant's cart
  3. Huge jazz funeral parade winding its way to Cemetery Hill
  4. Exquisitely beautiful painted ladies from the Red Windmill, dragging what looks to be a corpse
  5. Doc Delamour and his ambulatory carriage, selling his wares
  6. Tattooed Cajun heavies in leather jackets, enforcing a protection racket for Monsieur Brique
  7. Cajun rootworker disguised as a beggar
  8. Fetid swarm of swamp rats spilling out onto the streets
  9. Ancient gothic tenement collapsing into the swamp
  10. Sedan chair bearing the arms of the Baron Tuesday

Friday, 6 January 2012

[To Coin a World] Selected Gods

Below are briefly described some of the gods of the Coin. It should be noted that this is not an exhaustive list, as there are hundreds, if not thousands of deities of varying power and prevalence worshipped on the Coin. This is just a semi-representative sample.

Particular thanks to Jeff Rients, from whom I pilfered Omnia and the Frog gods.

The "Good":

Lord Aon

Chief god, general grumpy sky dad and master of lightning, Aon (or another suspiciously similar deity) is worshiped in almost every human culture on the Coin, although they vary as to which goddess is his wife and queen (leading to some interesting and very heated arguments). He is typically shown with two animal companions, although what these are varies - in the Hublands, he is shown with an owl (representing cunning) and a bear (representing badassery), while in the League heartlands he’s more often shown with an eagle and a lion. Combinations of these creatures might be considered holy gifts (griffons) or profane abominations (owlbears).

Hippatara

The primary goddess of rivers and fertility around the Friendly sea, and often depicted as the wife of Aon. Hippopotami are considered holy animals by her faith, and ancient depictions of her often show her as a ponderously-proportioned anthropomorphized hippo, although the modern church frowns on this. They also frown on the worship of Khadahan (see below).

Areena

A martial goddess, Areena’s creed promotes physical and moral purity, as well as crusades against evil-doers (or, if there aren’t any evil-doers around, foreign faiths), and the justice of trial by combat. There are several orders of warriors devoted to her, in the League and in a few other countries. Invariably, they are single-gender groups. Unicorns are considered holy to her faith (whereas everybody else thinks they’re crazy and dangerous). Her followers heartily dislike the followers of Frikk.

Khadahan

Another god of rivers, as well as sunbathing and long baths, the Crocodile-headed Khadahan was mostly only worshiped in Aratha until a recent miracle at the temple in Al-Harraj unified the splintered factions of his faith, and expanded his portfolio into the realm of fertility. His faithful are now trying to spread his worship around the Friendly sea, setting up bathhouse-shrines in several major cities. As a result, they’re in direct competition with the church of Hippatara.

Frikk

Goddess of war, alcohol, and carousing in general, Frikk’s faith is main popular in the Hublands, where the locals really appreciate those things. Where Areena’s warrior-clerics promote purity and honour, Frikk’s worshippers are encouraged to brawl, drink, sing loudly, and do whatever they want so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody (unless those people are your enemies, in which case, go right ahead). Areena’s faithful are generally considered to be too uptight, and should be mocked and needled wherever possible. Chainmail is considered a gift from her to mortals, and holy folk almost always wear it (often in far smaller quantities than would be considered sensible or proper, to show their faith in the goddess).


The Bad:

The Solar Dragon

The Solar Dragon is sort of a borderline Dark God. On the one hand, his Sollais faithful abhor all other dark gods. On the other, they abhor ALL other gods, claiming them false and demonic, while periodically sacrificing virgins and enemies of the state to him (by guillotine). The Sun Prince of Solielle is considered to be his chosen leader on the mortal plane. Images of a more feathery version of the Solar Dragon have also been found on some old temples in Zwuyala.

Iggujugglyoo

Another strange and unpleasant god from the jungles of Zwuyala, Iggujugglyoo, also known as He of the Thousand Teeth is a bloodthirsty god of carnivorous dinosaurs, particularly velociraptors. Little else is known about him, except that his worshippers tend to utterly crazed.

Rzngl the Unvoweled

Depicted as an elf with the heads of two deer, each able to shoot burning rays from their eyes, this demon prince (or princess, it seems to vary) enjoys blood sacrifices in a pleasantly woodland setting.

Tormentara

A goddess of temptation and corruption, Tormentara offers mortals their wildest desire, but always finds a way to take that desire to such an extreme as to be horrifying for the unfortunate that caught her attention. Her worship is both open and prevalent amongst the Dark Elves, who hope to placate her evil whims.

Gi’Am

A demon god of earth, stone, monsters and deathtraps, Gi’Am’s dungeon-temples are a favourite target for adventuring parties. Which seems to be just the way he likes it...

The Frog Gods of Chaos

Not a single god, but a multitude of extra-dimensional amphibious horrors devoted to corrupting or destroying the universe as a whole. Thankfully, they’re so chaotic that they often work at cross-purposes.


The Peculiar:

Urinor

God of sewers and plumbing, Urinor is among the youngest gods on the Coin, his faith only having existed for a few decades, at most, since his slightly unhinged prophet, a dwarven adventurer, began spreading his word. He mostly receives prayers in the form “Oh God, I really need a privy”.

Roadael

Different cultures differ as to whether Roadael is a demigod, a saint, or an archangel, but whatever the case, he is the patron of porters, hirelings, and servants, and is said to aid the other gods in preparing for manifestation on the mortal plane.

Omnia

Goddess of Everything Not Covered By Other Gods. As a result, the things Omnia is responsible for are strange, eclectic, and generally only come up in very unusual and specific situations. Her followers are rare and a bit weird, but are mostly quite nice, except for an shadowy (and insane) cult that wishes to destroy all the other gods so as to expand her power.

Kwaaak

The Bird God of Birds, Kwaaak’s faith dwindled to almost non-existance a thousand years ago, after he went insane over wizards developing flying brooms. His church was resurrected recently by an elvish princess, and is making headway promoting him as the (much more sane and reasonable) god of airborne travel in general.

Friday, 23 December 2011

[To Coin a World] Magic Weapons of the Friendly Sea

What follows are descriptions of the ten magic weapons known to be in use by various adventurers, both active and retired, around the Friendly sea.

Magebiter

Believed to be one of the many malfuctioning magic items left over from the Mage Wars, this sword seems to possess a rudimentary, animalistic personality, and a burning hatred of wizards of all stripes, seeking their deaths above all other things.

The Revenant Dirk
The origins of the Dirk are unclear, but the work of a Necromancer would not be far-fetched as an assumption. So long as the blade remains lodged in a dead body, that body will be animated and attempt to kill all living beings nearby.

Bitter Frost
Forged by the frost giants as a peace offering to the dwarven king in ages past, Bitter Frost bears the numbing cold of the wastes where it was forged, freezing any water that it contacts. It is also said to speak, and lament its own existence as a weapon of war.

The Twin Flails of Chastity
Quenched in the blood of a rabid unicorn, these two light flails are specially effective against those who could be considered loose with their affections.

Mindshiv
Found in the dungeons under the ruins of Xylarthen's Tower, this greenish hilt-less sword is said to be able to speak directly to the mind of the wielder, and sense the hostile intent of those nearby. It seeks new experiences, and if bored, may sabotage the current wielder so that it may be looted by somebody more interesting.

The Four Orcish Pirate Axes:
given as a gift by some dark and unpleasant god to the (now deceased) mutant leader of the orcish pirates known as the Bloody Axes of Powerful Killing, they appear similar in design, but each bears a different power.

The Axe of Power
This axe is able to strike with incredible force, quite out of proportion to the strength of the wielder, but is draining to use.

The Axe of Blood
Victims of this axe find their wounds bleed more freely than would be expected, and are difficult to heal.

The Axe of Killing
This axe can sense when a being is near death, and unerringly seeks to deal the final blow.

The Axe of Axes
When swung, this axe creates duplicates of itself, allowing it to be tossed at enemies as many times as the wielder wishes. The duplicates vanish after a short time.